At last he looked at his right hand, which had evidently suffered from the blow against the tree, and a half-stifled curse escaped his lips.

The vulgar woman now said something to him in a low tone, whereupon he looked at her for a moment, and then got upon his legs.
Again the vulgar woman said something to him; her looks were furious, and she appeared to be urging him on to attempt something.

I observed that she had a clasped knife in her hand.

The fellow remained standing for some time, as if hesitating what to do; at last he looked at his hand, and, shaking his head, said something to the woman which I did not understand.

The tall girl, however, appeared to overhear him, and, probably repeating his words, said, "No, it won't do: you are right there; and now hear what I have to say,--let bygones be bygones, and let us all shake hands, and camp here, as the young man was saying just now." The man looked at her, and then, without any reply, went to his horse, which was lying down among the trees, and kicking it up, led it to the cart, to which he forthwith began to harness it.